


The Stakeout

by DragonGirl87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Daddy Kink, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, HP-DaddyFest 2019, Harry Has a Daddy Kink, M/M, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slow Burn, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 04:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20285341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87
Summary: The Head of the Auror Department is a slave driver; Harry and Draco are both sure about that. Instead of a funEnd of the Week Game Nightwith friends, Robards sends two of his best Aurors on a boring stakeout. It does not take long before Harry and Draco find alternative methods to keep boredom at bay.





	The Stakeout

**Author's Note:**

> When you're as kinky as I am, both in RL and when it comes to my writing, it really is no surprise that I was instantly intrigued by this Fest and after perusing the prompts, I decided to give participating a go. While I've been writing for the fandom for a very long time, I've never actually taken part in a proper fest before so this is my first attempt.
> 
> I chose the below prompt, and while I don't know whether this is what my prompter had in mind, I was intrigued by the request. I never wrote an Auror Partner story before, so this was something I definitely wanted to try. I also wanted to combine the prompt with the HP-DaddyFest and I think I managed that just fine.
> 
> _**Prompt #13:** Harry/Draco - Bored out of their minds on the longest stakeout ever, they start playing games. It starts out innocently enough._
> 
> Massive thanks to my wonderful **K** who supported me from the beginning, patiently listening to me while I researched and insisted on spending hours talking things over. You read the story over and over again, sometimes just getting an update with a new paragraph or a complete rewrite of whatever I wrote before and suddenly decided needed changing. You are the best alpha reader in the world and thanks a million for your thorough beta job. I couldn't ask for a better person to keep me sane when every I wrote.
> 
> I would also like to thank my GF **CB** who was forced to take a backseat while I ignored her in favour of doing research and writing. Thank you for your patience, my love. Also, thank you for gushing over the story and making my day while I succumbed to fits of giggles. You are wonderful.
> 
> To my readers, I hope you'll enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

* * *

Harry strode down the Auror department’s long corridor, walking at a rather brisk pace to bring as much distance between him and the Head of the Auror Department’s office as quickly as possible. He wore his sourest expression; as one did when one’s boss had just effectively ruined one’s Friday evening and night along with the entire weekend.

In his current mood, the last thing he wanted was for anyone to engage him in pointless small talk or ask him for his advice on a case. Not today and most definitely not until he’d stopped fuming quite as much.

He ground his teeth together, glared at the two copies of identical case files in his hands, and fervently wished he could light them on fire. Their very existence was a thorn in his side.

Alternatively, a time turner seemed equally as enticing. Anything that would result in getting back the two hours of his life, which he’d just wasted in Robards’ office, vehemently trying every possible way to get out of the task he’d been assigned to complete. Incidentally, said job also required several long hours of overtime, something he was even less inclined to do.

His persuasive skills were nowhere near as good as his partner’s, who had the uncanny ability to charm just about anyone, whether they wanted to be or not. That unique Slytherin trait came in handy quite often and meant that they complimented each other’s work rather well.

Where Harry was direct, his partner had a more roundabout way of achieving the same results. Where Harry thumped his fist onto the table in annoyance during interrogations, his partner played the good Auror, the kind one, the one who offered drinks and a bit of a break. Where his partner’s endless repertoire of spells and charms didn’t help, Harry occasionally applied a bit of brute force. They’d genuinely perfected the art of working together as a team.

Still, no matter what he’d tried, Harry hadn’t been able to sway Robards or change his mind altogether. There’d been a moment where he’d seriously been tempted to toss his Auror badge onto Robards’ desk and walk out of the Ministry. He'd wanted to do so without as much as a backward glance. Although, in the end, he’d managed to resist throwing such a childish temper tantrum.

As he approached the door to the private office he shared with his partner, Harry stopped to take a deep breath and then another. He undid the second top button of his midnight-blue button-up shirt, arranged it a little, and jamming the files between his thighs, he held them in place and rolled up his sleeves.

One more deep breath and he slowly started to feel a lot calmer than he had while storming down the corridor. He grabbed the files from where he’d shoved them between his jeans-clad legs and cast a casual but lingering glance at his and his partner’s name tags in the centre of the black wooden door to their office. A smile curled his lips upward, and his sour mood continued to improve.

Four years ago, when Draco Malfoy had, unexpectedly, joined the Aurors, after previously working as a Curse Breaker, life had undoubtedly thrown Harry a bit of a curveball, yet, and despite their turbulent past, neither he nor Draco had been able to deny that they made a good team. The first six months had indeed been tough, and they’d ended up at each other’s throats more times than Harry cared to remember, but eventually, they’d worked out a way to successfully work as a team. The rest of the department, and Robards, thankfully agreed and while, four years on, working together wasn’t always a walk in the park, it had become a partnership that meant the world to Harry and one he didn’t ever want to give up.

Swallowing a sigh, Harry took a moment to prepare himself mentally. He then reached for the doorknob and twisting it; he pushed the door open and entered his and Draco’s office.

As he stepped over the threshold, Draco looked up from his paperwork, and Harry instantly noted the way his gaze lingered on the two top buttons of his shirt, then casually drifted to the case files in his hand. Draco arched an eyebrow in a silent question and letting the door fall closed behind him, Harry made his way to his desk, pulled his chair out, and fell into the soft leather cushions.

“Tonight’s Game Night at the pub’s cancelled,” he said with a weary undertone.

He levitated one of the case files across the room, gently setting it down on Draco’s desk, with a wandless casual gesture of his hand.

Draco placed his hand on top of the case file, but he made no move to open it and look at its contents.

Harry leant back in his chair and rested his left ankle just above his right knee.

“HoD, slave driver superb.”

He noted the way the corners of Draco’s mouth slightly curved upwards, but the micro-smile was gone a second later, replaced with an expression so sour that Harry felt a strange tingle surge down his spine. It wasn’t excitement per se but the knowledge that anyone who saw Draco looking like that usually ran for the hills. 

Well, anyone but him. None of Draco’s expressions scared him.

Everything Draco did to scare others away only drew Harry closer. Their relationship had always been like that and would always be like that. There weren’t a lot of things in his life that remained constant but this, the push and pull of his and Draco’s relationship, that was a regular thing, a given Harry could rely on. It was something he could set his wristwatch to, or so he liked to think. 

“This isn’t even our case,” Draco said after casually glancing at the information on the light-brown paper case folder.

Harry let out that sigh, the one he’d swallowed earlier, and holding his hand out, he summoned his coffee mug and took a sip. He promptly grimaced at the bitter taste of his coffee, now gone cold and decidedly unbearable, and set the cup down again, pointedly moving it across the desk and as far away from him as he possibly could without contorting himself.

“Well, now it is.”

Draco pursed his lips.

“What does he want us to do with it?”

Harry huffed out an air of breath and with it a hollow laugh, then summoned Draco’s mug of coffee and finding the ceramic still hot, he nodded approvingly and took a few sips, then yelped when Draco’s wandless stinging hex hit him. He rubbed his sore thigh and grumbled under his breath.

“Hey!”

“Potter, your manners are truly despicable. Ask, and you shall receive, don’t just take.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco and grinned.

“I shan’t.”

He refused with a somewhat challenging tone to his voice, one that somehow sounded dominating rather than childish.

He took a few more sips of Draco’s coffee and pointed at the DMLE crest and the three golden horizontal stripes on his robes, which he’d draped over the back of his office chair after he and Draco had returned from interviewing a suspect in one of their open cases earlier this afternoon.

Draco’s gaze followed his finger, lingered on the three stripes for a second, then slowly moved across the room to the two stripes on his robes.

Between the two of them, Harry was the higher-ranking officer, on paper anyway. Harry could count the times that he’d invoked his position in front of Draco on the fingers of his right hand.

However, moments like this, when he deliberately did it to poke fun at his partner, happened several times a week. Somehow, it had become their thing. He mockingly used his rank to put Draco into place while Draco gave him a hefty amount of sass for his cheek.

Instead of taking the bait, Draco turned his attention back to the case file; Harry had given him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he admonished, though there was no real annoyance in his voice, just the usual kind of tiredness that stemmed from a long week filled with hard work and overtime.

“Robards wants the house staked out before the raid.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

“Any trainee could do that, Robards doesn’t need two senior Aurors doing surveillance.”

“Apparently he does.”

Draco leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He pursed his lips again. Harry knew, mostly from the personal experience he’d gathered during the early days of his and Draco’s partnership, that underneath that calm and collected expression, Draco was seething. He was just very good at hiding it, excellent even.

“I have a million things to say to that man.”

Harry smiled and finished the rest of Draco’s coffee. He levitated the now empty mug back onto Draco’s desk, and as he carefully set it down on its designated coaster, Draco caught his eye, held his gaze, and glowered darkly. Harry remained unfazed and continued smiling.

“And all of them will cost you your job so you’ll kindly do me the favour of keeping your mouth shut because I’m not interested in finding a new partner.”

“Thank Merlin for Saint Potter and his hero complex. Whatever would I do without you, _Sir_?”

Draco’s mocking undertone did funny things to the butterflies in Harry’s stomach. 

These days, Draco’s way of giving him a healthy dose of sass and making sardonic remarks involved a hell of a lot of mocking. He loved to taunt, and since it was one of the founding pillars of their partnership, Harry relished in it, although he made sure not to confess to that very proclivity, especially not in front of Draco.

“When do we have to leave?” Draco asked.

“An hour ago,” Harry replied, only just resisting the desire to roll his eyes as he recalled the faux urgency in Robards’ voice. “I told him we’d be there at six. Thought we could grab dinner on the way. Your pick, my treat.”

Draco uncrossed his arms and reaching for a brand-new feather quill; he casually toyed with it.

“Potter, if you’re buying the least you could do would be to take me to that new French place in Covent Garden.”

_Like a date?_

For a few seconds, Harry nearly gave in to the temptation to ask the question and see Draco’s reaction to it, but he bit his tongue and swallowed his curiosity right down, along with his continuously growing romantic interest in his partner. Given all the things Draco said when they were alone together and the way his gaze often lingered, Harry was sure he wouldn’t reject him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to jeopardise their friendship and their professional relationship.

* * *

* * *

Harry stood up and raising his arms, he indulged in a full-body stretch, then rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in them. He hated stakeouts with a passion, and the only reason he hadn’t completely lost the plot yet was lounging in a rather uncomfortable-looking chair a few feet away from him, sulking for Slytherin.

Draco hated stakeouts even more than Harry did, and these days, he wasn’t especially good at concealing his emotions. At least not when the two of them were alone together, and the chances of anyone interrupting them ranged between slim to non-existent.

Around Harry, Draco always dropped his carefully constructed mask of cool indifference. Harry thoroughly enjoyed being privy to all of Draco’s emotions — the good and the bad — although he had yet to tell Draco as much. Then again, he suspected Draco knew, and that was the real reason as to why he was so open around him.

While rolling and rubbing his shoulders, Harry caught the way Draco’s eyes gravitated towards him and lingered on his person. He pretended not to notice or recognise the slight longing he could see in Draco’s beautiful bright silvery-grey eyes. 

Despite the distance between them, Harry had no trouble visualising those truly stunning eyes. Their colour composition made him shiver every time. It was true, they were mostly grey, but when one took a closer look, there was just the slightest hint of light blue in them, and they sparkled like bright diamonds. Even when Draco tried to appear indifferent and pretend that he didn’t care, he couldn’t entirely hide his true feelings — at least not in front of Harry.

He sometimes tried, but eventually, he always cracked. Harry had learnt as much.

Draco usually managed to play it cool for a while, then his mask crumbled ever so slightly, and he allowed Harry a glimpse of what he felt or thought without giving himself away to the others around them. 

When it was just the two of them, Draco didn’t even bother with the mask. He usually laid it all bare, and although the knowledge that Draco allowed himself to be this open and vulnerable around him gave Harry a proper power rush, he’d never once acted on it.

Rolling his shoulder one last time, Harry walking over to the large bay window that faced out onto the street. He casually leant against the wall beside the window, crossed his arms over his chest and looked out into the darkness. The permanent night-vision charm on his glasses enabled him to see clearly, and he briefly focused on the entrance to the terraced house across the street, which he and Draco were meant to observe for the night.

For the past week the house had been under strict twenty-four-hour surveillance yet up until now nothing worth mentioning had happened, or so the report, Robards had given him earlier, had said.

The Head of the Auror Department had his doubts about the authenticity of said reports, and in a cloak-and-dagger operation, Robards had decided to change the team of Aurors tasked with staking out the potential safe house for a vicious gang of criminals with international connections. 

Two hours ago, when he and Draco had apparated straight into the small shed inside the walled back garden of the house, they had surprised the two Aurors on duty, and while Draco had headed straight into the house to double-check all wards and surveillance charms, Harry had escorted his colleagues back to the Ministry.

Doing so hadn’t given him any gratification, but he’d done his best to focus on the task at hand, and after leaving his fellow Aurors with Robards, he’d immediately returned to Draco to keep him company.

Ever since their arrival, nothing exciting had happened, and Harry didn’t expect that to change any time soon. Neither he nor Draco had to keep a constant watch on the house. A team of Unspeakables had made sure that the wards and monitoring charms on the ‘_safe house_’ across the street would alert them the moment anyone, Muggle, Wizard or Witch, was to as much as sneeze in the vicinity of the property.

Since it was quiet outside and the street was devoid of people, animals, or any traffic, Harry turned his attention away from the window and looked over at Draco, who was still lounging in the wooden chair by the desk.

One of their colleagues had pinned a whole bunch of photographs — both magical and non-magical — to the wall above the simple writing table, on top of which lay several case files, some open and some closed. Red string connected all the photographs, forming an intricate net, and brief notes, scribbled onto post-its, gave further information about the relationships between all the persons of interest.

Harry let his gaze sweep over the photographs, then looked back at Draco and smiled. 

Draco didn’t quite let go of his frown, but his expression softened a little, and for the time being, that was good enough for Harry. The rest, Harry was confident about that, would follow eventually. Somehow, he always managed to worm his way under Draco’s skin and cheer him up or distract him. It had become their thing. Draco let himself be vulnerable, and in return, Harry relished in the chance to take care of and look after him.

During a duel a little over three years ago, Draco had taken the brunt of a nasty curse, one of the perpetrators had aimed at Harry and had spent the better part of a month recuperating in a private room in St. Mungo’s.

At first, he’d point-blank refused to let Harry anywhere near him. He’d even gone as far as getting the Healers to have him barred from his room, but when Harry had stubbornly continued to visit and refused to take no for an answer, Draco had eventually relented. Before long, he’d surrendered completely and allowed Harry to take care of him and nurse him better.

After the Healers had discharged Draco from the hospital, and despite getting full clearance to return to work, Harry had insisted that Draco temporarily move into Grimmauld Place with him.

Draco had, of course, vehemently refused, arguing that he wasn’t a child and was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

At that stage, however, Harry had already worked out that the way to ensure Draco’s surrender was to supply him with his favourite sweet treat — Belgian chocolate imported straight from Brussels — and food in general.

Two home-cooked dinners and a deluxe box of chocolates later, Draco had shown up on his doorstep with a holdall and a large suitcase. He’d ended up staying for a little over two months, and Harry would have happily agreed to let him stay forever; however, Draco had accused him of being the reason he kept gaining weight and resolutely moved back into his penthouse flat overlooking the River Thames. 

“What’s the matter?”

Harry broke the silence between them and for a second, Draco’s frown deepened, then he relaxed.

“I’m bored,” he said with a long sigh.

“Are you expecting me to entertain you?”

Harry slowly crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

Draco scoffed at him.

“That’s what you’re here for, Potter, are you not?”

“The cheek, Malfoy, the cheek.”

“You love it.”

Draco grinned widely and rolling his eyes, Harry remained silent, then thought for a while. There weren’t a great many things to choose from to pass the time. They didn’t have a television in the house so watching a film wasn’t an option, and while he’d previously resorted to performing Muggle magic tricks for Draco, Harry wasn’t in the mood to resort to that bag of tricks — not tonight anyway. He considered a few more choices and eventually settled on something he knew Draco would most definitely enjoy.

“Five seconds to answer, ten points for each answer you guess correctly within the time limit, minus five points for each question you answer after your time is up. Ready?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him and defiantly held his gaze.

“I was born ready, Potter.”

Harry chuckled and thought for a second, then asked the first question. The game would be much more fun with two teams in a pub with pints of lager flowing freely but tonight, and thanks to Robards, that wasn’t going to happen, so they had to make do.

“What kind of weapon is a falchion?”

“A sword.”

Draco answered instantly, and Harry nodded.

“Correct, ten points. What’s another word for lexicon?”

“Dictionary.”

“Correct, twenty points. Where would you find the Sea of Tranquillity?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“The moon, Potter. Every child knows that.”

Harry laughed heartily.

Perhaps every Pureblood child knew that, but he certainly hadn’t known that until he and Draco had, to build bridges, put together two teams for regular weekly pop quiz nights in a private room at the Leaky.

“Thirty points, don’t be such a smartarse. What is someone who shoes horses—?”

“A farrier.”

Draco answered the question before Harry had finished asking it.

“Forty points, this is too easy for you. Who was the legendary Benedictine monk who invented—?”

“Dom Perignon. Fifty points, you’re right, this is too easy. Potter, you’re slacking.”

“Less of that sass, Malfoy or—”

“Or what?”

Draco gave him a challenging look, and Harry’s mind instantly filled with several inappropriate scenarios in which he taught Draco a lesson; one Draco was bound to remember for quite some time. When Draco gave him a dirty smirk, Harry swallowed hard and instead resolutely banished all his ideas to the furthest corner of his mind — the one he reserved for those moments of weakness when he couldn’t quite resist indulging in the one or other naughty fantasy involving him and Draco getting up to no good.

“What’s the world’s biggest island?”

“Greenland, sixty points. Harder, Potter.”

Harry barely managed to suppress a groan. His mind was still firmly in the gutter and Draco wasn’t helping. Not even in the slightest.

“Fine, what’s the diameter of the Earth?”

“8,000 miles. Seventy points.”

Draco answered the question with a bored eye roll.

“Who played Neo in _The Matrix_?”

Another eye roll.

“Keanu Reeves, pure sex on legs if you ask me. Eighty points.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Harry said.

He fought with himself to try and manage to suppress the green-eyed monster from getting the better of him.

Even though they were both single, Harry truly hated listening to Draco fawning over other men or watching him flirt with them down at the pub.

“Well, I told you anyway.”

Draco smirked.

“How kind of you, thank you, Draco. I needed to know that.”

“You did, and you’re welcome, Potter.”

“What is the painting ‘_La Gioconda_’—”

“The Mona Lisa. Ninety points. Salazar, Potter, I could answer these questions in my sleep.”

Harry chuckled.

“Be happy you’re doing so well, Malfoy. You never know, you might start losing very soon,” he teased as a new idea slowly formed in his mind, and he had to try to stop a devious smirk from spreading all over his face.

“According to medieval folklore, unicorns can only be caught by…?”

“Female virgins.”

Draco drawled his answer with a bored look and stretching his feet out, he lazily crossed them at the ankles and placed his hands on his thighs, resting them there.

“Seriously, Potter, one could think you assume everyone slept in History of Magic. You know, Granger isn’t the only one who read the course book front to back.”

Harry resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and remained cool instead.

“Congratulations, one hundred points. I say we should up the stakes a bit, shan’t we, Malfoy? If you don’t answer the next question within five seconds, you’ll lose all of them and start right back at zero.”

Draco hesitated for a split-second, then nodded slowly.

“Deal, Potter.”

Harry slowly allowed the devious grin; he’d previously successfully suppressed, creep onto his face. He watched as a sense of trepidation filled Draco’s eyes, and he inhaled sharply. Harry stubbornly held Draco’s gaze and winked, then watched Draco squirm in his seat.

“Truth or Dare?” he asked with an air of complete nonchalance. 

Draco’s jaw dropped, and he stared, dumbstruck.

Harry smiled triumphantly, uncrossed his arms, and lifting his hand, he slowly counted down from five, raising his eyebrow when he reached two. He gave Draco an additional second, then formed a fist and shrugged.

“Zero points, Malfoy. I guess you lose after all.”

Draco spluttered.

“What the actual fuck, Potter!”

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It’s a fair question. Not my fault you didn’t answer within the given time limit.”

“You absolute fucking deviant.”

Harry laughed.

“Thanks for the compliment, Draco. Now, are you going to answer? Because if you make me choose for you, it’ll be a dare and you won’t like what I’ll make you do.”

Draco narrowed his eyes and glowered darkly, crossing his arms over his chest in stubborn defiance as he did so. After a moment of silence, he spoke through gritted teeth, spitting the word into the room as though it was pure poison.

“Truth.”

“Good boy.”

Harry noted the mild flush that appeared on Draco’s cheeks at hearing his praise but refrained from calling Draco’s attention to it. It hadn’t taken him long to work out that Draco had a praise kink, but he usually resisted abusing that knowledge. Whenever he did use it to his advantage, it was always in a playful setting, and he made sure that Draco knew as much.

“What’s your favourite body part?”

“My own?”

Harry shook his head.

“No.”

“Hands.”

Draco answered without hesitation, and as he smiled, his eyes briefly drifted to Harry’s hands.

After a short pause, he asked Harry to choose between answering a truth question or completing a dare.

“Truth,” Harry said.

“Do you like it rough or soft?”

Harry thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Honestly, it depends on the situation, the person, and what I’m in the mood for.”

“Such an eloquent way of getting out of giving a definite answer.”

Harry smirked.

“Been spending a lot of time with a complete smartarse lately, he must’ve rubbed off on me. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Chicken,” Harry teased. “Top or bottom?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“How original. You know the answer, Potter.”

“Tell me anyway, give me a reason.”

“Bottom, providing my Top knows how to stimulate a prostate gland properly.”

_I know, and if you let me, I’ll have you moaning and writhing on the bed begging me to let you come in no time_, Harry thought but bit his bottom lip hard to stop himself from saying the words out loud.

Instead, he told Draco that it was his turn. He was sure that Draco knew he’d been on the verge of saying something else, but Draco was smart enough not to question it and moved the game along.

“Truth or Dare?”

Harry smiled.

“Dare,” he said quietly.

Draco remained silent for a moment, then exhaled slowly.

“Come closer, stand between my legs,” he said.

As he spoke, he moved his legs, parting them to invite Harry into his personal space.

Harry chuckled softly, pushed away from the wall, and walked across the room. He approached Draco and stood right between his legs, spreading his own slightly so that the sides of his lower legs touched the insides of Draco’s thighs. Harry leant forward and using his left hand; he braced himself on the back of Draco’s wooden chair. Stopping an inch away from Draco’s ear, Harry exhaled softly. He felt the shudder that went through Draco and smiled.

“I know you can be bolder than that, Draco,” he whispered.

Another shudder.

Harry blew cool air over the shell of Draco’s ear, teasing him a bit more without doing anything.

“Too sober…”

Draco breathed his response. His voice was low and shaky, and for a moment, Harry closed his eyes. Draco didn’t need alcohol to be bold. He lived for physical contact, craved it like the air he breathed each second of every minute of every day. He also wasn’t shy about snuggling up. He’d done it often enough when they’d watched a film together and sometimes when he felt a bit sick but was too stubborn to take the day off work.

Harry usually made him nap on the comfortable black leather sofa in their office and always tucked a warm blanket all around him before nipping out to buy Draco some chicken broth. Draco hated it, but when he had a head cold or a stuffed-up nose, his taste buds generally gave out on him, and he didn’t mind the soup as much then.

“Poor excuse, Malfoy.”

Harry remained where he was and continued to whisper into Draco’s ear. He was acutely aware of the fact that his little attempt to entertain Draco was rapidly turning into something slightly inappropriate, but he lacked the willpower to stop himself and decided that he would push Draco only as far as Draco would let him.

If Draco wanted him to stop, he would. Immediately and without questioning it. That was Harry’s golden rule and one he never broke.

“Draco— If you’re going to choose truth, tell me one of your kinks, if you’re going to choose dare, close your eyes and let me give you a nose kiss.”

Harry felt and heard Draco inhale sharply then, after holding his breath for a few seconds, exhaled audibly. A few more moments of silence passed between them, and Harry was about to draw away and move out of Draco’s personal space when he got his answer.

“Dare.”

Only a single word fell from Draco’s lips. His voice was so low that had Harry still been standing by the window across the room; he’d have missed it.

However, since his lips were mere inches away from Draco’s ear and he could feel Draco’s deliciously breath on the side of his neck, Harry heard Draco’s answer loud and clear and as though he’d shouted it from the rooftops.

Hesitating for half a minute, Harry eventually pulled back just far enough to be able to see Draco’s face.

Draco had closed his eyes, and for a second, Harry felt the intense desire to forego the nose kiss and press his lips against Draco’s in the hope that Draco would surrender to a kiss. 

He knew better than to go there though, and gently touching his nose to Draco’s, he rubbed his own against it and felt the light puff of warm air which Draco released. It made his lips tingle and Harry pulled back to bite his bottom lip, lest he lost his resolve and kissed Draco after all.

After the nose kiss, Harry took a small step back to bring just a little bit of ‘_safety_ ’ distance between himself and Draco. Straightening up, he watched as Draco’s eyes slowly fluttered open. His dazed look once again tested Harry’s resolve and moving one hand behind his back; he clenched it into a tight fist to ground himself.

_Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, there’s no way this night is going to end well, and you know it_, Harry thought as his mind supplied him with endless suggestions of several inappropriate ways to end the night.

Somehow, and unsurprisingly, all of them ended with both him and Draco naked or at least partially undressed and even though he tried, this time around he didn’t quite manage to banish them all back to their cage in that dark corner of his mind.

The one that regularly fantasied about starting a relationship with Draco; a relationship that wasn’t just sexual but certainly also included that aspect. He’d fallen for Draco quite some time ago, and these days it was becoming harder and harder to control himself. It was clear to him that Draco shared his feelings and Harry desperately wanted to act. He wanted Draco to know that he wanted them to be more than friends and Auror partners, but at the same time, the implications a romantic relationship might have on their professional relationship truly terrified him.

A few minutes of silence went by, and even though the air in the room was thick with both his and Draco’s desire to take things further, Harry stoutly remained where he was. He made no move to reduce the distance between him and Draco again but took a moment to watch the way Draco squirmed on his chair, only barely fighting off the urge to slide off it and move closer.

Harry waited, wondered, and swallowed a disappointed sigh when Draco remained right where he was. Draco gave him a sheepish smile and looked at him from under lowered lashes, and Harry’s heart took one giant leap and then melted into a puddle of goo.

Determined to play by Draco’s rules and not push him past his comfort zone, Harry fought to bring his emotions under control. He managed to gain the upper hand temporarily but couldn’t quite resist making Draco squirm in his chair. One small compliment resulted in a beautiful pink tint that coloured Draco’s cheeks, and his blush was genuinely endearing.

Harry tried his very best to keep all his truth questions just this side of naughty and all his dares only an inch shy of indecent. They had the desired effect on Draco, who found it harder and harder to fight his resolve, which he pointedly expressed with the occasional dark glower or icy death glare.

In response, Harry smiled and winked and teased. Before they knew it an hour and a half had passed. The hands of the clock on the wall were edging closer and closer to midnight.

Just after answering a truth question, Draco finally lost the ability to suppress a yawn, and while he hid it behind the palm of his right hand, his sleepiness showed in his eyes. He looked downright adorable, and before Harry managed to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the question from spilling out, he’d already asked it.

“Would you like a bedtime story and a glass of milk with that yawn?”

Draco paused for a moment, then slowly lowered his head, and shot Harry a curious look.

When his lips curled upward in a cheeky sort of smile, Harry instantly regretted his question and idly wondered whether he’d manage to draw his wand and throw a silencing spell at Draco before he managed to answer that question.

For some reason, Harry instinctively knew that he most definitely did not want Draco to answer _that_ question, but his curiosity was his downfall, and he kept his wand firmly sheathed inside the expensive handmade leather holster, he kept strapped to his right forearm.

“Don’t I also get a forehead kiss, _Daddy_?”

That whiney voice along with Draco suggestively battling his eyelashes and acting like a needy little boy instead of the grown man that he was, sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He barely managed to contain the soft moan that threatened to fall from his lips.

Draco’s question, and especially _that_ word tickled Harry in all the right places and feeling his cheeks heat, he quickly averted his eyes and turned around to look out of the window.

Harry knew that he couldn’t have been more obvious about his secret kink and he also knew — especially given the fact that he and Draco had just spent the better part of two hours playing a naughty game of Truth or Dare — that Draco had caught on. 

Harry could practically feel Draco’s eyes pierce through the clothes on his back and heat his skin. He could picture the way Draco’s lips continued to curl upward and knew that if he were to turn around now, he’d find Draco smirking at him.

Somehow, Draco had managed to gain the upper hand, and after all the teasing and taunting, Harry had subjected him to during their game, he was sure that Draco was ready to retaliate. And strike back he would, that much was a given. Draco had found an opening. There was no way he was going to pass up a chance like this. When it came to having the opportunity to tease, he was like a dog with a bone. Harry had learnt that lesson the hard way a long, long time ago.

A minute and a half of silence passed and even though he felt the strong temptation to turn around and face Draco again, Harry stubbornly continued to look out of the window.

He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and mentally counted down the seconds until Draco finally chose to strike. He got to four when a massive shudder surged through him like a jolt of electric current, and he found himself standing that little bit straighter.

“_Daddy_…”

Draco’s whine was delectable, and Harry ground his teeth together to stop himself from responding to it.

He desperately wanted to answer Draco, wanted to honour that needy boyish cry for attention — he didn’t care that it was deliberate on Draco’s part.

_That_, _this_, it had been Harry’s kink for a while now. He relished in taking on the role of a caretaker in a relationship. He loved the idea of looking after someone, and in return, giving that somebody the opportunity to let go, to feel safe and to express themselves in whichever way they wanted to.

He didn’t need that part to be sexual, but he didn’t mind it either. That’s where his other kink kicked in, the sheer thrill he felt at having someone submit to him; mind, body, and soul.

Harry loved that subtle consensual exchange of power, the permission to dominate a partner both in and out of bed. Being in charge, and making decisions for somebody else, for as long as that somebody consented to have those decisions made for them, gave Harry a rush. He craved it like a sweet drug, and it was one of the reasons why he was so meticulous about choosing a partner and perhaps even the real reason he’d, up until now, hesitated to make a move on Draco. He wanted a relationship that allowed him to be himself.

“_Daddy_, please…”

Another shudder surged down Harry’s spine, and he briefly closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. He clenched his fists in his pockets and forced himself to inhale and exhale several times, taking his time as he did so.

“Ngh.”

He choked the sound out and immediately pressed his lips together, then slowly turned around and fixed his eyes on Draco. 

To make matters even worse, Draco had shuffled forward on his chair, wrapped his fingers around the edge of the seat between his spread legs and looked at him with a coquettish expression that made Harry’s heart flutter. It threatened to give out altogether, and his brain scrambled to try and restore normal function but gave up after several unsuccessful reboot attempts.

“Don’t.”

Harry whispered the word, pleading more than reprimanding Draco for continuing to be thoroughly out of line. He didn’t have the resolve to scold Draco when he was, perhaps somewhat unknowingly, ticking all his boxes. The way Draco acted made Harry want to run his fingers through Draco’s hair. He wanted to caress his cheek gently and kiss him tenderly and whisper all sorts of sweet praise into Draco’s ear until he blushed, squirmed, and surrendered completely.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow.

He continued to smirk deviously, and Harry quietly resigned himself to the fact that he would have to suffer through Draco teasing him mercilessly until the novelty of it finally wore off. Although, given the look in Draco’s eyes, Harry didn’t have a lot of hope and deep down, he knew that unless he told Draco off, his partner would not stop taunting him.

“Why? Will you spank me for being naughty if I don’t, _Daddy_?”

Draco’s whiney voice was the perfect pitch and Harry could feel his arousal flowing through his body and settle low in his groin. His brain, clearly unable to make sense of the situation and realise that this was Draco, his partner-in-crime, his colleague, and friend, redirected a copious amount of blood to his nether regions and to his horror, Harry felt his cock slowly harden and stretch the unforgivingly tight fabric of his favourite pair of washed-out jeans.

He held Draco’s gaze for a moment or two, then took half a step forward. It was more to test the waters, rather than act, but he instantly noted the way Draco’s breathing hitched. It gave Harry a bit of a pause, and he took a second to consider the facts, then tested his theory by moving just a little bit closer. Draco’s breathing hitched again, and his pupils dilated a little.

Harry fought against the urge to smirk as Draco inadvertently proved him right. While Draco had called him _Daddy_ with the sole intention of provoking him and getting a bit of a rise out of him, Harry did not doubt that the idea of getting his bottom spanked for being naughty appealed a great deal to Draco.

Straightening up a little more, Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets and let them loosely dangle at his sides. He hardened his expression and delighted in the way Draco squirmed underneath his steady gaze. He was fighting the urge to look away, and it was sheer headstrong wilfulness that stopped him from yielding to Harry’s unwavering steady gaze.

_Little brat_, Harry thought and stopped himself from smirking but raised an eyebrow at Draco in a silent question.

Draco squirmed a little more, then somehow found the resolve to show a bit more of his sass.

“You like this,” he said stubbornly. “You like being called _Daddy_.”

Despite the continuously growing arousal that spread from his groin through the rest of his body, Harry kept his expression neutral, and it wasn’t long before Draco started squirming again.

_Small victories_, Harry congratulated himself and took two steady steps forward, stopping right in front of Draco. He continued to hold his gaze, then leant forward, relished in the way Draco’s breathing grew laboured, and he parted his lips to lick them with the very tip of his delectably pink tongue.

“And you like the idea of Daddy spanking your bottom for being a naughty boy and not doing as Daddy tells you to.”

Harry merely whispered the words, but they still had the desired effect. A shudder went through Draco, and a soft sigh fell from his lips.

“Is that what you want, Draco? Do you want Daddy to spank you?”

“Ngh.”

Harry saw, felt and heard Draco’s response. His pupils continued to dilate, and his lips remained parted as he shuddered and squirmed on the chair.

“This is turning you on.”

Harry needn’t have made that statement. The signs were all there. Somehow, the tables had turned again, and Harry had the upper hand once more, though he tried not to think about it too much since it made his head spin.

For a moment, he was reluctant to take things further, and he certainly wasn’t going to spank Draco tonight but the idea most definitely appealed to him. His mind filled with visions of him sat on Draco’s chair with Draco bend over his knees, offering him his bare arse for the taking. He imaged Draco closing his eyes and moaning as he submitted to a pleasurable spanking and his arse cheeks slowly turned red and thrummed and throbbed with the lingering sting of each bare-handed smack.

Harry temporarily pushed the delectable fantasy aside and gently cupping Draco’s cheek; he continued to hold his gaze. He watched and felt Draco swallow hard and smiled softly.

“I’d rather you be a good boy for Daddy. Can you do that, Draco? Can you be a good boy for me?”

A soft mewl fell from Draco’s lips and unable to look away, he blinked and swallowed again, then coated his lips with a thin film of his saliva.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Draco whined his response into the small space between them and Harry hummed in silent approval. His cock grew thicker and harder and continued to strain against his jeans and shuffling a little, he spread his legs a little further apart, but it didn’t do much in terms of comfort. Trying not to focus on his throbbing erection, Harry ran the fingers of his free hand through Draco’s hair and marvelled at its softness. 

Draco’s eyes were now big and wide open, and his pupils were dark and clouded with definite desire. Draco’s expression was one of boyish innocence. It reminded Harry of a seventeen-year-old Draco. Back then, Draco had perpetually hidden behind a dark scowl, an icy glower, and a mask of indifference. Now, he looked just like that, except with all his layers of protection stripped away. He was willingly baring his soul, and Harry barely managed to contain his glee.

“Sweet boy,” he murmured.

Draco let out of a soft whimper, and his eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to decide whether to keep his eyes open or close them.

Harry smiled softly, warmly and placing his thumb on Draco’s bottom lip; he watched as Draco parted his lips just that little bit more and wrapped them around Harry’s thumb, attempting to suck the digit into his mouth. Harry let him and exhaled audibly as he imagined Draco’s soft lips wrapped around his cock, sucking it into his mouth, and pressing his tongue against the underside of it.

He was rather obvious about what it was that he wanted and when Draco lightly sucked on his thumb, Harry’s cock twitched inside his jeans, and he instantly wanted more.

“Suck, my sweet boy, suck,” Harry instructed, keeping his voice warm and soft. Draco hummed around his finger, shifted on the wooden chair, and sucked his thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

Draco’s silvery-grey eyes shone with such intense desire that Harry could barely contain himself and running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he slowly dropped his hand and palmed himself through his jeans. His cock was achingly hard, and even though Harry was trying to take the edge off, it barely made any difference. Draco noticed where his hand had gone, and his eyes widened. He swallowed around Harry’s thumb and sucked the digit even deeper into his warm wet mouth. He pressed his tongue against it, pulled back just a little and teased the tip of Harry’s thumb with the tip of his tongue.

Harry’s efforts to try and contain the desperate need for relief went right out of the window. He groaned and licked his lips and decided, there and then, that watching Draco perform fellatio on his thumb was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

Another wave of desire washed over him, surged down his spine and pooled low in his groin, and after another minute, Harry finally managed to force himself to pull his thumb from Draco’s mouth. He wanted to give Draco his cock. He wanted to let him suck on it, but first, he wanted to do something else, something he’d wanted to do for the longest time.

Leaning down, he exhaled softly and blew his hot breath over Draco’s wet lips, delighting in the low moan that fell from Draco’s lips and reverberated around the room.

“Please, Daddy.”

Draco gave a small begging whine, and Harry’s heart fluttered and skipped a beat.

“Patience, sweet boy,” he whispered with a smile, then captured Draco’s lips in an intensely possessive kiss, claiming his mouth with his tongue and humming into the kiss.

Draco tasted just like he’d always imagined he would. Sweet, soft, clean, and innocent, with a tangy twist of sass and a healthy dose of sarcasm. Harry couldn’t get enough. He never wanted to stop kissing Draco, who moaned into the kiss and surrendered so beautifully that Harry’s heart skipped another beat. He couldn’t get over how perfect Draco was, how willingly he fell and how explicitly he trusted him not to cross a line, even though they hadn’t discussed anything of the sort.

Harry felt Draco try and reach out for him but noted the way his arms dropped down to his sides seconds before he made contact. He could tell that Draco was struggling to breathe slowly and regularly and that he was most likely starting to feel dizzy but try as he might, Harry could not bring himself to pull away from the kiss. He wanted to taste Draco just that little bit longer and delighted in the way Draco edged forward in his seat, trying to close the small gap between them.

Finally, and with much effort, Harry convinced himself to slowly withdraw from the kiss and running his thumb slowly over Draco’s now kiss-swollen red wet lips, he toyed with them but pulled away when Draco attempted to suck the digit back into his mouth. He clicked his tongue in gentle disapproval, and Draco gave him a bashful look.

“I said patience, sweet boy,” he said. “Daddy will take care of you, I promise.”

Draco mewled softly, and Harry returned to running his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, and teasingly tugging on the soft locks of silky blond hair he loved so much. He let his fingertips trail down the side of Draco’s neck and over his shoulders, which he squeezed gently.

Ever since his month-long stay at St. Mungo’s, Draco had taken to wearing a curse-proof vest whenever he was on duty and Harry, quite desperately so, wanted to take it off. He wanted to slowly strip Draco naked and have his wicked way with him, but he resisted and moved his hands back up. Harry ran them down Draco’s arms, then leaned close and let his lips ghost over Draco’s, allowing him to believe that he was getting another kiss.

Instead, he praised him.

“You’re beautiful, sweet boy.”

Draco hummed, and his cheeks coloured again. This time they turned crimson-red, and Harry gently caressed Draco’s left cheek, running the knuckles of his hand over the flushed and heated skin.

Draco looked at him with his eyes still open wide. By now, his pupils had fully dilated. While his eyes were still hungry with desire, the feeling also thrummed all around him like a shield of magic. It fuelled Harry’s unquenchable thirst for more, and he prayed that Draco wasn’t going to ask him to stop. He would, of course, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to continue this little game, wanted to take Draco under and take such good care of him; he’d have him begging for more sooner rather than later.

Harry pressed his cheek to Draco’s and knowing that his stubble would feel rough against Draco’s pale smooth cheek, he exhaled slowly, letting his hot breath ghost all over the shell of Draco’s ear.

“Get on your knees for me, sweet boy, and put your hands behind your back.”

The whispered instruction resulted in a visible shiver surging through Draco and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco would obey. He needn’t have worried. Draco hesitated for barely a second. His eyes went from Harry to the floor, then back again, then he swallowed hard and sliding off the wooden chair, he sank to his knees on the floor in one fluid motion. He moved his hands behind his back and crossed them at the wrists, leaving his fingers unfurled and loose.

As he lowered his head in silent submission, Harry struggled to believe his eyes. Here they were, officially tasked to monitor the hideout of a notorious criminal gang, yet, busy getting down and dirty with each other while playing a very kinky game of dominance and submission.

Harry inhaled sharply. He most definitely hadn’t imagined his first sexual encounter with Draco to happen this way, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he rather liked this.

His heart fluttered and unable and unwilling to resist, he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and decided that the action was quickly turning into his favourite pastime ever.

He coaxed Draco into lifting his head, and when their eyes met, he held Draco’s gaze and smiled softly, warmly. He watched as Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and worried it, but after a few moments, he gently pulled it free and stroked his thumb over Draco’s cheek, running it along his cheekbone and resting it at his temple.

“Sweet boy.”

The praise only served to intensify the deep flush of red that coloured Draco’s face and Harry continued to smile. Half of him wanted to move things along and get that blowjob, but a much larger part of him wanted to take his time. Draco deserved no less. After all, he was willingly giving him the precious gift of his submission, and in return, he deserved to get respect and love. Harry needed Draco to know that he wasn’t taking this for granted but that he cherished every second of Draco’s submission and his willingness to allow Harry to dominate him and his follow orders.

“Do you want Daddy to take care of you, sweet boy?”

Draco mewled in direct response.

“Please, Daddy,” he whispered, his whine low and needy.

Harry smiled.

“Such a good boy, how could I resist.”

With his fingers under Draco’s chin and his thumb across Draco’s lips, Harry moved his other hand back to his jeans and slowly popped the top button. He undid the zipper, then reached inside and gently pulled his throbbing hard cock out, hissing with relief at the cool air that suddenly swirled around the hot flesh and delighting in the fact that his tight boxer briefs and an even more uncomfortable pair of jeans no longer confined his erection.

He stroked his prick slowly, teasingly, and watched as Draco’s eyes gravitated towards it and settled on the full thick flesh. 

A low whine fell from Draco’s lips, and he blinked.

“Please, Daddy.”

Harry smiled softly. For a moment, he felt the temptation to make Draco beg for it, make him put into words just how much he wanted it, but he resisted the urge and resolutely decided that this was a game for another time. He secretly hoped that this wasn’t just going to be a one-off because now that he was about to get a taste of what Draco was capable of, he didn’t think it’d be able to go back to just being friends.

“Be a good boy now, open up for Daddy, sweet boy.”

Draco didn’t need to hear the order twice. He parted his lips obediently, and Harry teased them with the head of his cock, running it over and around Draco’s mouth, before eventually letting him have it. He slowly pushed his cock an inch or so past Draco’s receptive lips and let the heavy flesh rest on Draco’s tongue.

“Show Daddy how much you want your treat, sweet boy.”

Draco didn’t disappoint. He sucked Harry’s cock further into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the head, and Harry groaned. His fingers, almost automatically, twisted themselves into Draco’s hair, but he didn’t pull, and he didn’t push his cock any further into Draco’s mouth. He just relished in the sensations, allowed Draco’s skilled mouth, lips, and tongue to carry him away on a strong wave of pleasure and desire. Draco’s mouth was warm and wet around his cock, and the suction and Draco’s wet lips, tightly wrapped around the girth of his hard prick were driving him wild with desire.

Harry unashamedly let out a long groan and felt Draco hum around his cock.

“Yes, that’s it, sweet boy. You’re doing such a good job, _ngh_, yes, Daddy loves what you do, darling.”

Draco hummed again, his response to Harry’s continued praise, and the vibrations travelled along the entire length of Harry’s cock. They spread through his groin and from there they moved into the rest of his body. He curled his toes inside his black dragonhide boots, twisted his fingers even further into Draco’s hair and groaned again.

“Yes, darling, _ngh_, yes, make Daddy come. Take it, swallow it, sweetheart. Show Daddy how much you enjoy sucking his cock.”

Harry felt Draco suck harder; he felt him twist his tongue and could tell that his continued praise was music to Draco’s ears. He could see the desperation in Draco’s eyes and knew that a part of him wanted to draw things out, make it last longer, but he could also see that Draco was nearly delirious from the intense need he felt. Draco’s cock was still inside his trousers and hadn’t received any attention whatsoever, and Harry intended to rectify that issue as soon as possible.

Draco gazed up at him, and Harry smiled warmly, affectionately. He couldn’t hide the burning lust in his eyes and watched as Draco shuddered and squirmed and flexed his fingers.

Harry knew he wasn’t going to last very long. He could feel his orgasm well up inside of him, and as it started to spread through him like wildfire, he gently thrust his hips forward, pushing his cock just that little bit deeper into Draco’s mouth. Ordinarily, he had more willpower than this, could hold back for much longer but Draco was just a bit too good with his mouth, and the suction was divine.

At this stage, drawing things out was the last thing on Harry’s mind and letting his eyes fall closed, Harry surrendered to his orgasm and let himself fall over the edge. He felt his come fill Draco’s mouth, felt it collect on Draco’s tongue, then felt Draco’s throat muscles contract as he swallowed his come.

Draco gently caressed the tip of Harry’s cock with this tongue, then slowly let it slide from his mouth. Opening his eyes, Harry watched Draco take a deep breath; an attempt to calm himself. He could tell that Draco’s heart was racing and that he was struggling to fill his lungs with air. Draco was genuinely desperate for his release, and Harry’s heart gave another flutter. Even though Draco had made him come, he continued to keep his hands behind his back and made no move to undo his trousers and stroke himself to completion.

Taking another moment to calm down and recover, at least somewhat, Harry took several deep breaths, then gently tucked his now spent and rapidly softening cock back inside his boxers but left his jeans open and undone.

He crouched down in front of Draco, one knee on the ground, the other leg bent at the knee and cupping Draco’s face with both hands, he drew him into a deep and hungry kiss that Draco freely surrendered to.

Harry heard him mewl into the kiss and felt him lean closer, yearning for body contact. He let his fingers travel through Draco’s hair and slowly trailed down Draco’s spine, moving closer to his hands. Once he had reached them, Harry squeezed Draco’s hands and thoroughly enjoyed the way Draco, at once, latched on to him, holding on for dear life, needing the support to ground himself.

“I’m here, I’ve got you, sweet boy. Daddy’s right here.”

Harry briefly broke away from their kiss to whisper sweet words of reassurance, then resumed the kiss and continued to taste himself on Draco’s lips, on his tongue and inside every corner of his perfect mouth. He deepened the kiss and used it to show Draco how much he wanted him, how much he desired him.

After several minutes, he managed to free one of his hands from Draco’s iron vice-like grip and still kissing him; he let his now free hand roam over Draco’s body. Somehow, he managed to find an inch of warm flesh between the edge of Draco’s curse-proof vest and the waistband of his trousers and explored it, keeping his touch gentle, sweet, and soft. It was only his kiss that was possessive, claiming, and full of his desire to own Draco.

Eventually, his hand found Draco’s rather prominent bulge, and squeezing his hard prick through the thin fabric of his trousers and underwear; Harry massaged it gently, then with deft fingers, undid the button and zipper, and slipped his hand inside.

He pulled Draco’s cock free, wrapped his fingers around the hard and throbbing flesh and delighted in the way it twitched in his hand. Harry squeezed and stroking Draco’s erection slowly, teasingly; he gradually broke away from the kiss and locked eyes with Draco.

“My sweet boy, do you need a bit of attention? Do you need Daddy to help you take care of this, darling? Daddy will make it all better. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

Harry whispered the words against Draco’s kiss-swollen, thrumming lips and thoroughly lost in the moment, lost in the scene they’d inadvertently created together. He squeezed Draco’s hand and continued to stroke his cock, revelling in the feeling of it in his hand, the girth, the hardness, the wetness around the head and how sensitive and responsive it was to his touch.

He could tell that Draco was struggling to keep his eyes open and shivered when a deep and unrestrained moan fell from his lips and spilt out in the tiny space between them.

“Yes, Daddy, please, Daddy.”

Draco’s words were barely audible, they were nothing more than a faint whisper floating on air, but Harry heard him, he heard Draco loud and clear and twisting his fist around Draco’s cock, he pulled another long moan from him.

Harry moved his hand faster, knowing that each stroke kept pushing Draco closer to the edge. Draco was desperate now. He wanted to come, he wanted it badly, and it didn’t take long for him to start begging.

“Please, Daddy, please, I need… Daddy, please, please, I need to come, please.”

“I know, my sweet boy. I’ve got you; I’ll make you come.”

Harry reassured Draco and swiped his thumb over and around the head of Draco’s cock, applying a bit of pressure and spreading the pearly drops of precome around the sensitive head of Draco’s gorgeous cock.

“Be a good boy and come for me, sweetheart. Come for Daddy.”

A soft whimper fell from Draco’s lips. He moaned, first deep and long, then low and whiney. Harry felt his cock pulse, felt it twitch and felt Draco shake and shiver. His head dropped forward, and Harry moved to offer his shoulder. He felt Draco’s forehead connect with it, then felt and heard Draco’s loud groan and then felt him come hard.

Unable to resist the desire to see for himself, Harry looked down and watched streak after streak of hot white come splashed all over the floor, Draco’s trousers, and even Harry’s jeans. Harry slowed his strokes but continued to slowly move his hand until Draco fell into his arms, unable to keep kneeling.

Harry wrapped both his arms around Draco, kissed his cheek and the side of his neck and shushed him gently as Draco tried to remember how to regulate his breathing. He hugged Draco tightly, released his wand from its holster, and gripping it firmly, he pushed the wooden chair back, pointed his wand at it, and swishing it, he transfigured it into a bed, complete with a soft mattress, cushions, and a warm duvet.

Holstering his wand, Harry slowly got to his feet, and instead of persuading Draco to do the same, he lifted him into his arms and carried him the two feet across the room and to the bed. He gently eased Draco down onto the bed and crawling after him, he held Draco tight, kissed his forehead tenderly, rubbed his nose against Draco’s and then kissed his lips softly.

Draco blinked and slowly opened his eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression.

“Thank you.”

It was more of a breathless whisper than actual words, but it made Harry smile nonetheless. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and kissed him softly.

“You’re welcome.”

Draco smiled, and his eyes fell closed again. He exhaled softly, shuffled a little closer, and Harry hugged him tighter.

“I’ve got you; I’ll stay right here with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Forever, please.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“I can arrange that.”

“Good.”

Silence descended over them both and Harry continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair as he listened to Draco’s breathing slow down and even out.

Certain that Draco was at least half-asleep, Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s forehead and kissed him.

“Please don’t regret tonight or what we did because I don’t,” he whispered, feeling a bit sentimental.

Draco surprised him with a response.

“Won’t, this was perfect. You are perfect.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat and glad that Draco hadn’t opened his eyes but merely mumbled his response, he kissed Draco’s lips, curled around him and closed his own eyes.

* * *

* * *


End file.
